Shunned
by Zenchi
Summary: A child, not quite a girl, but yet to be a woman, is hated and forgotten by the world. What happens when she receives a birthday gift, the gift of a small, leather-bound black book, with the words ‘Labyrinth of Logic’ printed on its cover?R
1. Chapter One

Title: Shunned  
  
Author: Raven-Mistress for the Incarnate  
  
Category: Labyrinth  
  
Rating: Pg13-R  
  
Summary: A child, not quite a girl, but still not a woman, is hated by her father and forgotten by the world. What happens when she receives a birthday gift from her aunt, the gift of a small, leather-bound black book, with the words 'Labyrinth of Logic'?  
  
  
  
I realize that a writer has written a story much like this, I began typing this several weeks ago and by the time I decided to post it I noticed that her story had already been posted. I'm sorry that my story is so similar.  
  
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"One more push Mrs. Charelton, one more!" The doctor was practically screaming at the struggling woman before him. She had been trying for over thirty-eight hours and she still hadn't brought her child into the world, she had little strength left and if the rest of the procedure wasn't preformed with the utmost care neither mother nor the child would survive.  
  
Lillian Charelton felt the world darkening; she held her husbands hand tightly, refusing to leave this world until her work was done. Her muscles were limp and tired; her strength had all but been depleted. She closed her eyes, hoping to rest, but she pried then apart when she began to feel the next contraction. She did her best to brace herself for the coming pain, but she wasn't prepared for the pain to not come.  
  
She screamed in agony as she heard the doctor give the order for a caesarian section. An unknown anesthesiologist placed a mask over her face and before she could protest, everything went black.  
  
  
  
Curtis Charelton had been pushed from his wive's bedside and was forced to wait in the stark, white corridor. His anxiety only heightened as he watched the staff rush in and out of the room. He silently prayed for his wife to live, she was his light and his love. He had never been a good man until he had met his gentle, little Lillian. She kept him from letting his work engulf him, from letting the business world rule him.  
  
Only a half an hour after his wait began the doctor emerged. The moment Curtis looked at the older mans face, he knew, one of them didn't survive.  
  
"Mr. Charelton, I'm sorry that I have to be the one to inform you of this, but your wife didn't survive the operation. She was just too weak. The baby..."  
  
Curtis cut him off "I don't care about the baby." He said in a low, hateful tone.  
  
"It's a girl," the doctor pressed, "Five pounds, sixteen ounces, twenty-one inches long. Other than her low weight, she appears to be healthy. You should go pay your respects to your wife and then meet your daughter."  
  
"I suppose so." Curtis answered lowly as he stood and entered the delivery room.  
  
When he saw his gentle wife, lying on the bed he cried for several minutes. Then he heard it, a small yawn/like cry. Slowly he stood and faced the child that was the cause of his pain.  
  
She was small, pale and had a dark thatch hair. She seemed like all other infants he had seen; only there was something else. It was nothing physical, but something in the air around her. It was in the way she looked at him, her eyes, even after being open to the world for thirty minutes; they held emptiness and something that was almost unearthly. She wasn't normal and she frightened Curtis.  
  
He named her only moments after he first saw her, Constance Itami; it was a mixture of Latin and Japanese which translated to Constant Pain. Her name was his way of condemning her.  
  
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The girl walked quickly through the streets, she avoided the curious glances she got from strangers as they passed. Her school uniform half hidden under her heavy pea-coat, only the dark, navy blue, pleated skirt could be seen. Her dark hair hung in heavy waves and curls down her back, she struggled to keep it from blowing into her face as the icy winter wind picked up. The wind only seemed to be that way when she was angry, she thought sullenly.  
  
After walking several blocks she reached her destination, a small apartment complex in the 'better' part of town. She greeted the doorman and walked to apartment 3A, she knocked on the door and waited for a response.  
  
Elizabeth McCutean was expecting her nieces' arrival, as she did every day at 4:23 pm. But today was different and special. Today was Constance's seventeenth birthday, and Elizabeth was determined to make it somewhat enjoyable.  
  
She opened the door and pasted her best smile on, and she even managed to keep it in place when faced with those dark, beguiling blue/gray eyes. Those eyes seemed so out of place against the girls pale, porcelain/like skin.  
  
"Hello Constance, have you had a happy birthday?" Elizabeth asked brightly.  
  
"It's been as good as any of the others." Was the simple reply she received.  
  
"That bad?" the older woman asked, not bothering to hide her sarcasm "I may have something to remedy that." She finished quickly pulling her sisters only child into her home quickly.  
  
She retreated into the living room, leaving Constance in the foyer, shouting "Stay put, I have a surprise." over her shoulder.  
  
Constance stood quietly, shifting her weight from foot to foot. She looked around the familiar room and quietly remembered her life up until that moment. She thought it was sad that the only soul to take pity on her was her aunt, not even her father cared for her. She knew he blamed her for Mothers death, he hated her because she wasn't Mother.  
  
Today would be particularly hard for her and her father. Not only was it her birthday, but it was Mothers death day. She was not looking forward to going home.  
  
Her aunt came back into the room, officially interrupting Constance's train of thought. Without a word Elizabeth presented her niece with small, wrapped rectangle.  
  
Constance smiled as she took the gift and whispered "You didn't have to get me anything."  
  
"Oh be quiet, I know for a fact that your father hasn't gotten you anything. A girl needs to receive something on her birthday." Her aunt said quickly as she rushed Constance to open the gift.  
  
With a look of concentration on her face Constance tore into the paper, and soon a book lay in her hands. It was small, and bound in black leather. The words 'Labyrinth of Logic' were etched into the cover in a fine, shinning, red font. Constance studied the book for several quiet seconds, the smoothness of the leather, the feel of the text on the cover and the cold chill that ran down her spine when she opened the cover and read the first line. 'The underground was comprised of several kingdoms, the two most powerful being the Goblin Kingdom ruled by the High King of the Underground, Jareth; and the Lamia Kingdom ruled by King Tristram, younger brother to High King Jareth. This is a tale of the King of the Lamia Kingdom, the ruler of the knowledge hungry Lamias.'  
  
"It was your mothers. I don't think she got the chance to read it." Elizabeth broke through the girls thoughts again, "I thought it might interest you, I know how you love to read."  
  
For one of the first times Constance flung herself into her aunts' arms and hugged her. "Thank you, the fact that it belonged to Mother makes it all the more special." 


	2. Chapter Two

Title: Shunned  
  
Author: Raven-Mistress for the Incarnate  
  
Category: Labyrinth  
  
Rating: Pg13-R  
  
Summary: A child, not quite a girl, but still not a woman, is hated by her father and forgotten by the world. What happens when she receives a birthday gift from her aunt, the gift of a small, leather-bound black book, with the words 'Labyrinth of Logic'?  
  
Disclaimer- I own nothing.  
  
The night began to set in, and with a heavy heart Constance left her aunt's inviting apartment and flagged down a cab. She had to go home, no matter how much she wished she didn't.  
  
The cab traveled a short distance before stopping in front of a condominium, home. Constance paid her driver and thanked him before carefully grabbing her new book and walking up to the entryway. She stood outside in the cold for several minutes, contemplating what she would face when she entered. Until this year her father had always been out of town with business on her birthday, he was reserved, like herself. She found it hard to read him. She hated going into a situation and not knowing what she up against.  
  
Constance had made a habit out of reading those around her, learning their habits and predicting their next move, it gave her a strange sense of control. If she knew what others were thinking she could relax. Though she very rarely interacted with her peers, she was far to busy with her books and stories. Because of her taste for the written word her peers shied away from her, she was different, and it is in human nature to avoid the new and different.  
  
Taking a deep breath she turned the knob and stepped into her home. Looking around the entrance hall and the living room, she saw nothing out of the ordinary. With a delicate shrug she turned and walked to her room, she quietly shut her door when she entered and turned on the lights.  
  
She quickly sat her book down on her desk, then she began her nightly routine. She walked over to her neat and straight closet and selected a pair of dark blue, silken pajama bottoms and white tank top. She carefully placed them on her bed and then shrugged off her coat and hung it up, she then quickly exchanged her school uniform for the sleep clothes she had laid out.  
  
She lifted her arms above her head and stretched out and with a cat like yawn she sat down at her desk and picked up the book. She read it silently and intently for what must have been hours, the girl in the story seemed so confident, like none of the evil king's riddles or rhymes could get to her.  
  
With a stifled laugh, Constance thought that many of the 'challenges' were similar to the brain teasers she did for fun. Only, in the story there was a much higher price to be paid when you couldn't solve them.  
  
When she heard the grandfather clock in the living room strike one, she reluctantly put the book down. Before she could stand, her door burst open. Curtis stood with an angry scowl across his face as he faced his only child.  
  
He wordlessly advanced upon her position at her desk, trying to meet the cold stare she was giving him. When he was he was all but an inch away from her he leaned down and whispered, "It's your fault. It's always been your fault." he paused to jerk her into a standing position by her arm, "She was such a good woman, kind and beautiful, you don't even look like her."  
  
He violently released her arm and looked about her almost immaculate room, then his eyes fell on the book. "And look at the filth you fill your head with," he accused as he snatched up the book and began to read from it's pages "I wish the King of the Lamia(?) would come and take you away, right now!" he snorted at the ridiculous words as he looked up to meet the angry gaze of his daughter, "What kind of garbage is this?!"  
  
"Obviously it's above your level of understanding." She said coldly, not expecting the angry fist to connect with her left cheek. She staggered back and almost fell, her bitter anger rising, the wind outside howled and the snow began to fall in heavy waves.  
  
The wind blew with such force that the window beside her bed blew open, before father or daughter could react a third party joined them. A man, with wild, gold spun hair, angular features and eyes that seemed to shift color in the light. He was taller than Curtis, who stood at six foot, and the five foot, five inch tall Constance found herself having to look up to meet his gaze.  
  
He looked around the room with a hint of mild interest and allowed his gaze to fall upon Constance, a sneer crossed his face as he starred into her unforgiving eyes. He turned to Curtis and with a mocking bow he sarcastically stated, "Thank you for inviting me."  
  
Well, there's my second chapter! I'd like to thank Redaura() for reviewing! 


	3. Chapter Three

Title: Shunned  
  
Author: Raven-Mistress for the Incarnate  
  
Category: Labyrinth  
  
Rating: Pg13-R  
  
Summary: A child, not quite a girl, but still not a woman, is hated by her father and forgotten by the world. What happens when she receives a birthday gift from her aunt, the gift of a small, leather-bound black book, with the words 'Labyrinth of Logic'?  
  
Authors Note: I would appreciate reviews.  
  
Disclaimer- I own nothing.  
  
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Tristram stood and quietly took in the scene before him, a young woman clad in her night clothes and a bruise developing on her pale skin was standing close to him. A middle-aged man in a disheveled business suit stood by a writing desk, clutching the book. It was obvious what had transpired, the daughter had angered her father and he had 'wished' her away.  
  
He turned back to the girl; something about her didn't sit well with him. She seemed so out of place, she was of a medium height and of a small build, her hair hung down to hair lower back and her skin was as pale as the snow falling outside. He looked at her eyes and in that moment he knew pain  
  
Her eyes held an emptiness, and a pain that would frighten any mortal man. He looked into those dark beguiling violet pools and tried to read her, only to realize she was doing the exact same thing to him. He smiled at her, a cruel smile of knowing. This one would be fun indeed.  
  
"You're him aren't you?" she whispered, drawing him from his thoughts, "You're the Lamia king." Her voice was soft and light, yet deep and sensual. He studied her features closer, cocking his head to the side. Her eye pleasing face and form seemed almost elvish. She radiated the beauty that he had only witnessed in that species, her eyes, though hollow and empty held a wisdom of the world around her, as if she was in tune with it.  
  
Coming out of his thoughts he spoke in a richly accented voice "Yes, I am the Lamia king, and I have come to claim my property."  
  
"You will not." She replied quickly, an angry glow entering her eyes. The wind outside began to blow harder again.  
  
"Yes I will, your father so graciously offered you to me. I am accepting that offer." Tristram grinned cruelly showing his sharp, pointed teeth.  
  
"I didn't offer her." Curtis spoke up, confused by the conversation his daughter was having with the strange intruder, 'If you don't leave, I, I'll call the police!"  
  
"What's said, is said, go back to your papers and your briefcase. Your daughter is mine." Tristram spoke harshly to the man.  
  
"Take her; she's brought me nothing but pain and sorrow anyways." Curtis replied as he turned on his heel and left the room, slamming the door behind him.  
  
Constance winced at her fathers words; she should have known he would betray her. She looked back at the Lamia king and waited for the inevitable. "You don't want to go." He stated more than asked as he watched her reaction to her father's words.  
  
"No, I wish to stay here. I have a life here, it may not be much of one, but it's all I have." She replied, her voice cold, emotionless.  
  
"Seeing as I am a gracious ruler, I shall make a bargain with you." She narrowed her eyes in distrust, "You may run my labyrinth, and by successfully reaching the center you will win your freedom. If you do not reach the center, you will be mine. I'm sure the Lamia's would love to suck every bit of knowledge from that intelligent mind of yours." He finished with a distressingly evil laugh.  
  
He walked to her and wrapped his arm around her waist; before she could pull away the ground lurched beneath her feet. She stumbled further into his embrace. The wind whipped at her face and she tightly closed her eyes, but the, it stopped. The King had released from his embrace and she opened her eyes.  
  
The sun was shinning brightly over a parched landscape, sand stretched out as far the eye could see. But she knew better, slowly she turned around to face the monstrosity she knew was there. She gasped when she saw how huge the maze actually was. She said a silent prayer and then returned her gaze to the king.  
  
Tristram watched in amusement as the girl looked out at his labyrinth, she had no clue what she was in for. He watched as she looked back at him and tried to put on a brace face, he smiled at her.  
  
"Does something amuse you, your highness?" He was taken back by the venom in her voice; no one spoke to him in such tones, save his brother, of course.  
  
He advanced on her and smoothly replied "Only the thought of you meeting my subjects once your time has run out."  
  
The wind picked up as she aloud anger to cloud her vision, "And how much time are you allotting me, sire?" her sarcasm once again catching him off guard.  
  
"You will have 13 hours to solve the Labyrinth, or else you are mine. Remember, my dear, the challenges that lay beyond that gate are all logic. You will not only have to find your way through the tangled corridors, but you will also have to solve those challenges."  
  
With every word he spoke her anger seemed to rise, clouds began to form and soon the sky was a sick gray. This did not go unnoticed by the Lord of the land, he was ruler in this place and he controlled everything that happened, yet someone was controlling the elements.  
  
He cast a glance at the girl before him, and decided that this one was not to be underestimated. With a feral grin he said "Your time begins now." With that he faded away. 


	4. Chapter Four

Title: Shunned  
  
Author: Raven-Mistress for the Incarnate  
  
Category: Labyrinth  
  
Rating: Pg13-R  
  
Summary: A child, not quite a girl, but still not a woman, is hated by her father and forgotten by the world. What happens when she receives a birthday gift from her aunt, the gift of a small, leather-bound black book, with the words 'Labyrinth of Logic'?  
  
Authors Note: I would appreciate reviews. I tried to update in the wee- hours of New Years Day, but something was wrong with my internet and it wouldn't move fast enough for my liking. So, you'll probably be getting this chapter later on.  
  
~Raven~  
  
Disclaimer- I own nothing.  
  
  
  
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He entered his throne room in a whirlwind of glitter and shinning dust. He leisurely sat down in his shinning ivory and gold throne, not bothering to so much as glance at the creatures that were lounging around the room. Waving his hand in a smooth motion he pulled a light blue crystal from the air and gently held it on the tips of his fingers.  
  
As he searched the swirling depths, the beautiful half-cat, half-human, Lamias silently left the room. They knew their Lord and Master would be highly volatile while someone was running his Labyrinth.  
  
Lamias were much like the Egyptian Sphinx, having the body of a large feline (a lion) and the torso and head of an attractive human. They could be unkind creatures and if provoked they would obtain pleasure from inflicting pain. These creatures were some of the highest intellects in the magical realm and they would often gain their knowledge by draining it from others.  
  
Tristram sat calmly and watched as the girl, Constance, made her way to the large doors at the beginning of the Labyrinth. He studied her intently, from the way her hair would lightly swing behind her to the light way she stepped, barely leaving a print in the sand. He watched intently as she carefully looked the large doors over, she examined the large knocker for several moments, and then she removed the round ring from the ornaments mouth and began to speak to it. And the first challenge began.  
  
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Constance stood in front of the imposing doors, they had no handles and no hinges, and the only piece of metal on them was a large knocker formed like a male lions head. It was finely detailed; it looked as though the animal had been caught and while enraged and in mid-roar it had been dipped in molten steal. From the gaping mouth, a round, metal ring hung.  
  
Constance reached up and lightly touched the knocker, the lion flinched. With a slight smile Constance reached up and removed the ring from the beast's mouth. The lion unhinged its jaw and worked it around before looking down at her with skeptical eyes.  
  
"So you're the challenger. You don't look so smart." He spoke with an 'all knowing' air.  
  
"Excuse me?" Constance asked as she looked at it closer, her eyes snapping with fire at the insult she had just been issued.  
  
"I said, 'you don't look so smart.' You can't even understand what I'm saying, they get denser every time." The lion grumble down at her as he shook his great, metal mane out.  
  
"You're being rude." Constance said heatedly before, shutting her eyes and putting forth the effort to control her temper, taking a deep breath she opened her eyes and asked "Do you know how to get into the labyrinth?"  
  
The lion froze and aloud his face to become serious, with an exaggerated nod he said "The labyrinth is beyond these doors, I am the gatekeeper and I will allow you entrance, but you must first find the answer to my question."  
  
"And what if I don't get the answer?" Constance asked quickly, starring into the lions cold eyes.  
  
"You won't enter." Was the simple reply she received from the knocker.  
  
"Okay, what is it?" she asked as she stood, still as a board, every so often she subconsciously scrunched the warm sand between her bare toes.  
  
Clearing his unseen throat the lion began in an ominous voice, "At night they come without being fetched, and by day they are lost without being stolen." Once finished he sent Constance a pointed look, signaling for her to give her answer.  
  
She quietly began to repeat the words to herself and then separated all of the main points, "Come at night, without being fetched, lost to day, without being stolen." after only seconds more deliberation she looked up and said "Stars."  
  
"Very good, maybe you're smarter than you look."The knocker said as the doors swung open on their accord.  
  
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Tristram allowed his mouth to drop open for a moment, she answered that with little effort at all. He smiled; this one would be fun indeed. It had been so long since he had had an actual challenge.  
  
He looked up from the crystal when he heard someone clear their throat; he was met with a large Lamia that went by the name of Cadmus. Cadmus was the king's advisor, and had been for as long as anyone could remember.  
  
"What is it?" the king snapped impatiently as the animal slowly stalked into the middle of the room.  
  
"I am here to announce the arrival of your brother, King of the Goblins, High King of the Underground, Jareth." The Lamia drawled all of this information out lazily, seeing as the present company already knew everything there was to know about the man entering his throne room.  
  
"Thank you Cadmus, you may leave." Tristram said dismissively as he stood to greet the Jareth.  
  
Jareth walked in and carefully looked at the man before him, they were almost identical, sharing the same aquiline features and the same wild hair style. The main differences were their eye and hair color. While Jareth's hair was a pale, white gold, Tristram's was a few shades dark and it retained a look of burnished gold. And while Jareth had a set of dual colored eyes, Tristram had eyes that never seemed to stay the same color, they look almost as though they changed color with the light.  
  
The brothers were also garbed similarly. Each were wearing black tights and knee boots, Tristram wore a light blue poets shirt opened enough to reveal his family pendant and a black leather waist coat, while Jareth wore only a white poets shirt opened to show his pale chest and pendant.  
  
"What brings you to my corner of the Underground, brother?" Tristram asked as he stepped forward and formally shook his hand before giving him a brotherly hug.  
  
"I was en route to the Seelie Court, I have been summoned to defend myself and my position." He stated lowly, "Since the 'incident' they have begun to doubt my abilities, they fear a civil war could break out. I was hoping you would stand by me while I presented my case."  
  
"Any other time I would, but I am currently occupied with matters of state." Tristram replied, a hint of remorse evident in his voice as he returned to his throne.  
  
"There's someone in your labyrinth." Jareth said after a moment of silence, "Who is the lucky challenger?"  
  
Waving his hand again, Tristram created a new crystal and tossed it to his older brother, "Her name is Constance Itami, her father wished her away. She's playing for her freedom." Tristram narrated as his brother searched the depths of the almost clear, blue crystal.  
  
"She looks like the Nyss Elves." Jareth said absentmindedly as he watched the girl carefully pick her way through the maze.  
  
"You noticed too?" Tristram said as he stood and began to pace the room, "I would have believed that, but her eyes are all wrong. The Nyss commonly have light eyes."  
  
"Did it ever occur to you that she could be a Halfling? Possessing traits from a human parent and an elven parent?" Jareth replied coolly as he watched his brother move anxiously around the room.  
  
"Then why was she aboveground?" Tristram snapped at his brother. Jareth looked at his brother sharply but said nothing, Tristram looked at his brother with apology in his eyes and then quietly continued, "She's quite a strange specimen, her eyes.they're so strange." His voice faded as his thoughts returned to the young woman traveling through his labyrinth, suddenly he looked up at his brother as a memory struck him "If I didn't know better, I would've thought that she had been controlling the winds."  
  
"The Nyss have reputation for being in tuned with the world around them. If one had not harnessed its' power, or didn't know they had those powers, they could possibly subconsciously use them." Jareth replied, as he watched his brother make another lap around the throne room, he was acting much like a caged animal.  
  
"But she's a mortal. A human; they have none of these gifts." Tristram replied quietly as he returned to his throne.  
  
"Even a king can be mistaken." Jareth said as he tossed the crystal away, "Be careful with this one, and don't allow her to get to you." He whispered as he looked around the clean, Lamia throne room "Now, if you'll excuse me, this whole situation is a bit to similar to a one I found myself in at one time."  
  
"I understand, good luck at court, brother." Tristram told his brother as he watched him fade from the room.  
  
With a wave of his hand, he resumed his vigil. 


	5. Chapter Five

Title: Shunned  
  
Author: Raven-Mistress for the Incarnate  
  
Category: Labyrinth  
  
Rating: Pg13-R  
  
Summary: A child, not quite a girl, but still not a woman, is hated by her father and forgotten by the world. What happens when she receives a birthday gift from her aunt, the gift of a small, leather-bound black book, with the words 'Labyrinth of Logic'?  
  
Authors Note: I would appreciate reviews. ~Raven~  
  
Disclaimer- I own nothing.  
  
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The maze seemed to go on forever, it twisted and turned and made it impossible for Constance to decipher which direction she was actually headed in. She could only hope she was on the right track. She quietly cursed when something on the gravel-like flooring cut into the soft flesh on the soles of her feet as she walked down the twisting corridors. The walls were made of a dark, almost black stone and were covered in a slimy, clear substance that she thought was much like snail's trails. Those walls were toweringly high, and they blocked the sun.  
  
She had little light to make her way by, due to the lack of light and she was constantly squinting to see what lay ahead of her. She carefully made her way around another corner, and while concentrating on not touching the walls she almost ran directly into a blockage in the path. She staggered back a bit and before turning around to take another path, she took a closer look. It was no mere blockage. It was a statue.  
  
After closely examining it for several seconds she gasped and fell back several paces. It looked like what she imagined the Minatare to look like, she hadn't noticed its head until she had strained her neck upwards for it towered several feet above her. It was carved from a rough, light gray stone and where the eyes should have been, two deep red stones sat. She gently reached out to stroke the gratie surface of the statue, but the minute her fingers came in contact with it, the beast roared to life.  
  
"What do you think you're doing here, child?" It asked her in a low, rough and deadly voice.  
  
"I, I'm trying to find my way to the center of the Labyrinth." She said, almost staggering over her words from fear of what would happen if she angered the creature further.  
  
"I know not what lies beyond this point." He replied loudly, "I guard this position. And only those who can answer a question of logic may pass." He finished his statement by blowing dust out of his large stone nostrils.  
  
After a few seconds deliberation she pasted on her bravest face and stated "I wish to answer your question."  
  
She supposed his facial expression was as close to a smile as he could get, but it almost looked too menacing for a true smile. "What belongs to you, but is used primarily by others?" His voice was gruff and hollow as he spoke, "You have five seconds to answer, if you aren't finished deliberating by then, you'll be my breakfast."  
  
Her eyes widen at his statement, but she said nothing. Her brow furrowed in deliberation as she concentrated, her mind doing double time. Then the Minatare spoke, low and frightening, "Your time is up, do you have an answer?"  
  
She stood still, thinking hard, but coming up with no answer. The beast began to advance on her, taking slow steps towards his prey. She remained where she was, eyes unfocused as she concentrated on finding the answer. With a lethal looking grin the beast knelt over until he was eye-level with her, puffing more dust from his large nostrils, he was prepared to make his attack.  
  
Then, she looked up and met his gaze "My name." she stated simply. With that the creature withdrew and stood aside and allowed her to pass.  
  
She ran past him and continued the high pace for several minutes, stopping suddenly, she reflected on what had just happened. The whole weight of the situation hit her and she released a staggering breath; that had been a close call. Mentally shaking off her fear and placing her confident mask back on, she renewed her speed.  
  
She blazed her path and tried not to think about the challenges. Hopefully there would be no more 'guardians' as imposing as the last one. 'Please let me live through this, please let me live.' She silently chanted to herself, trying to slip into her hard, protective shell. Then, not paying a large amount of attention to where she was going, allowing her feet to do the preverbal thinking, she quickly turned a sharp curve in the path and smacked into a wall.  
  
She fell to the ground with an unceremonious 'thud' and looked up to see. She had run into no wall. She found herself starring up at the Lamia King; he had donned a pair of well fitted black breeches, a soft-looking dark gray poet's shirt, high black knee boots and a billowing black cape. From her angle he was the most imposing being she had ever seen.  
  
He cocked his head to the side and with a bemused smile said "Enjoying the view?"  
  
Without answering Constance hastily stood to face him. He gazed at her intently for several seconds; she held her chin up with a bit of courage she didn't know she had, she was trying hard to seem brave. Then he reached out and cupped her chin.  
  
He tilted her head to side and examined the now dark bruise that stretched from her temple to her jaw. "What could you have possibly done to cause your father to do this?" He whispered lightly.  
  
"I did nothing." She stated quietly.  
  
He reached out one, long, gloved finger and ran it over her bruised flesh, she tried to wrench herself from his grip but he refused to yield. When he released her she reached up to touch her face, there was no pain.  
  
"You healed me?" she asked, in a small, child-like and almost astonished voice.  
  
Her only answer was a smile, a feral and dangerous smile that, for some reason almost made her knees go weak. Almost.  
  
"Why did your father strike you?" He asked quietly, leaning over her small, fragile form.  
  
"Because, I'm not her." She whispered, casting her eyes to the ground, "He hates me for what I did." At that moment she almost looked vulnerable in his eyes. Almost. But then she returned her gaze to his and her eyes were still dead, "Thank you for what you did, but if you'll excuse me, I still have to finish this." She stated, indicating the labyrinth.  
  
He made a tremendous, mock-bow and stepped clear of her path. 'This one,' he thought, 'is a maze all in her own.' 


	6. Chapter Six

Title: Shunned  
  
Author: Raven-Mistress for the Incarnate  
  
Category: Labyrinth  
  
Rating: Pg13-R  
  
Summary: A child, not quite a girl, but still not a woman, is hated by her father and forgotten by the world. What happens when she receives a birthday gift from her aunt, the gift of a small, leather-bound black book, with the words 'Labyrinth of Logic' printed on its cover?  
  
Authors Note: I would appreciate reviews. ~Raven~  
  
Disclaimer- I own nothing.  
  
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The path was still dark; the walls seemed to be getting closer and closer together, making the path narrow. Those same walls still refused to allow the sun passage into the great labyrinth. This was getting to be too much; Constance could feel the claustrophobic urge to turn around and find her way out building in her chest. She resisted the urge, instead using it to fuel her pace, not caring about the sharp particles of rock and dirt that cut into her feet, she ran faster, hoping for away out of the almost pitch- black corridor.  
  
She ran, the never-ending walls seemed to taunt her, making her feel as though she were going mad with the desire to be free of them. Time seemed to pass slowly; her breathing became labored and harsh. She tried to keep her pace quick, but her tired limbs seemed to become tangled together, she tripped.  
  
Her eyes shut tightly; her arms and hands flew out in front of her, a reflex, her subconscious trying to break her fall. But, there was no rough landing, no scraping of her skin of the rough ground; in fact, there was no landing at all. Just falling.  
  
She opened her eyes and found herself falling further and further in darkness. There were no walls, no ceiling and no light. She couldn't be sure if she was falling down or up. She couldn't control her speed, and she knew that when she landed it would hurt. The ground below was going to be hard.  
  
But instead, there was no ground. She landed with a resounding 'splash', and was sucked under the surface. The water was dark, murky and within moments of being submerged she was chilled to the bone.  
  
Bubbles floated past her face, they were moving past her, towards what she hoped was the surface. Doing a fast one hundred and eighty degree turn, she began to kick her feet and swim hard. The current pushed and pulled her and waters icy hands seemed to be trying to push her further down, but she kept staining. Her features began to look gray; her lips took on a faint blue cast. Then she saw it. It was a flicker, barely visible through the water. It was the sun.  
  
She broke the surface and gasped in the sweet-smelling air. She shielded her eyes for a moment, being taken back by how bright the light was after the waters darkness. Rising up in the water, she found herself standing.  
  
She was ankle deep in a large, white marble fountain that was set in the center of a circular structure. Walking to the edge she stepped out of the now warm, clear-blue waters and on to soft, springy, green grass. She swept her wet locks from her face and studied her new surroundings.  
  
She had come up in a small, circular, enclosed area, surrounded by high, marble pillars, between each pillar stood a great redwood tree. The trees were so thick around the trunk that they seemed to almost connect with the pillars, making sure that whatever lay within the circle stayed there. Or maybe it was to keep what lay outside from getting in? It was no difference, both meant she was trapped.  
  
She ran to each pillar, praying to find that there was a large enough gap between one of the marble forms and the overbearingly large trees for her to squeeze through. But, her prayers went unanswered.  
  
She turned around and around, thinking that maybe, just maybe she had missed something. A secret door, a limb low enough on one the trees for her to climb up, a gopher hole, anything. Her efforts were wasted; there was no way of escape. There were only the pillars, the trees and the fountain.  
  
She gave a small, frustrated growl and collapsed to the ground, having to resist the urge to pound her fist on it as she sat there. She felt the situation was hopeless. She was going to be stuck in there until she either died or was rescued by the one who was forcing her to play that stupid game in the first place.  
  
'Being rescued doesn't sound so bad." A traitorous voice whispered in the back of her mind, she violently shook off the notion.  
  
For several minutes after that, she sat in the grass, eyes unfocused as her ribs began to feel as though they were constricting around her lungs. Bowing her head, she found herself having to concentrate on breathing.  
  
Looking up from her place on the ground, her eyes focused on the fountain. Absent-mindedly she noted how it was truly a magnificent creation, it was a basic pool enclosed by a circular two foot tall, marble wall. In center stood another marble creation, three tall statues, all of them men. They formed a triangle within the pool, standing with their backs to each other.  
  
They were wearing the same style of clothing that the King seemed to frequent. Each of them bore the same light and attractive features and there was no mistaking their fey heritage. Their eye brows were upswept and even in their stone portrayals they had a regal bearing. They were beautiful. Each was holding a silver platter, something she had neglected to notice until that moment. Water trickled off of these platters and into glittering pool below.  
  
Standing, she made her way back to the fountain, feeling the sudden need to further investigate the strange and beautiful form. Stepping back into the pool she carefully approached the stone beings.  
  
The closer she got, more real they seemed, the detail was amazingly intricate. The folds and texture of the clothing, every individual strand of hair, they were captured in a moment of time. Even the somber expressions, on their faces, had been portrayed so fully, they almost created a feeling of being on sacred ground.  
  
Once she stood directly before one, she almost expected it to come to life, like almost every other inanimate object she had come in contact with had. But, it stood still, marble eyes starring past her.  
  
The platters were held gently in stone hands that were raised up to a height even with her chest. There were intricate designed forged into the delicate metal, they looked much like the Gaelic knots that adorned much of her aunts apartments furnishings. In the middle of the tray sat a glass vial, it small in proportions and was kept closed by a miniature cork. It was filled with a deep purple liquid; its color was astoundingly bright, yet it was equally dark.  
  
With docile fingers she picked up the small container and before inspecting it further saw a word etched into the space on the platter that it had been occupying. Looking closely she the fine, scrawling print spelt out the word 'Past'.  
  
"I wonder what that could mean." She asked herself quietly before returning her gaze to the vial in her hands.  
  
For several moments she starred at the liquid inside before she plucked the stopper from its position and lifted the vial to her nose. She inhaled the sweet fragrance, it reminded her of the flowers Aunt Elizabeth insisted on growing inside her winter cabin, or maybe it was the perfume her Grandpa had sent from Ireland just before he passed on.  
  
She stood there, quietly content in breathing in the nostalgic scents that wafted from the small vial until an alien hissed "Drink it," her head snapped up and she quickly looked about and found that she was still alone, "Drink it!" The voice was more insistent; it seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere all at the same time.  
  
With an apprehensive face, she slowly lifted the vial to her lips and poured the liquid inside. Swallowing quickly, she expected to experience a taste or an after taste similar to the scent or the liquid, but there was nothing. Only a nauseating sensation, that started in the center of her stomach and made its way up.  
  
The world began to spin around her, faster and faster until she finally had to shut her eyes to keep from being sick. The ground lurched beneath her feet and she became off balanced, she began to fall, but instead of landing in the shallow water of the fountain she landed on hard, freezing ground.  
  
She opened her eyes and quickly jumped to her feet, she was no longer standing in the beautiful circle of trees and pillars, she was in a forest that looked as though it had recently seen an ice storm. The trees were coated with heavy frost and the ground had fine powder of snow covering it that seemed to freeze the soles of her feet on contact.  
  
Carefully taking in her surroundings a sudden thought hit her, this forest looks familiar. As she looked closer she saw small details that only she would notice in a place like this, this was the forest that surrounded her Grandfathers old winter cabin. She knew that place like she knew the back of her hand; she had spent many years in her childhood traveling through this winter-wonderland.  
  
She turned when she heard footsteps approaching, a woman in a dark green coat and blue jeans approached. Her hair was long and wavy; it was a dark auburn and glistened brightly where snow flakes had been caught up in its mass. Her skin was slightly golden and she was apple-cheeked from the cold, her eyes were a dark brown-red they had the look of innocence that was almost always reserved for children.  
  
Constance starred at her, dumbfounded. The woman moved about the trees in a playful manner, completely ignoring Constance's presence. But Constance knew the importance of this moment; she drew in a deep breath and whispered "Mother."  
  
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Special thanks to-  
  
Sapphira: Your support has helped me a lot. Thank you very much!  
  
Addie: Thanks, I'm glad you like what I've got!  
  
Luna: I'm getting the chapters out as fast as I can, thanks for reading.  
  
Jammincat9: Thanks, I'm glad you like the new characters; I had a hard time deciding on how to make their personalities. 


	7. Chapter Seven

Title: Shunned  
  
Author: Raven-Mistress for the Incarnate  
  
Category: Labyrinth  
  
Rating: Pg13-R  
  
Summary: A child, not quite a girl, but still not a woman, is hated by her father and forgotten by the world. What happens when she receives a birthday gift from her aunt, the gift of a small, leather-bound black book, with the words 'Labyrinth of Logic' printed on its cover?  
  
Authors Note: I would appreciate reviews. ~Raven~  
  
Disclaimer- I own nothing.  
  
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Tristram leaned forward in his throne, he starred intently into the small, fragile looking, light-blue crystal that sat so perfectly on the tips of his fingers. He watched, mesmerized by the young woman pictured in it. She was standing in a memory, part one of a three part challenge that she was currently trying to overcome.  
  
She was watching a woman, with wonder clearly written all over her young features. She seemed to be memorizing all of the movements the other woman made, concentrating furiously on catching every shift, turn and sway the other woman's body made. Then he heard her whisper, ever-so-lightly, the word 'Mother'. This is getting interesting, he thought absently as he watched the challenge play out.  
  
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Slowly, Constance walked across the snow covered ground until she was standing shoulder to shoulder with Lillian. Gently she reached out to stroke her fingers over her mothers' flesh, hoping to know what her mother had felt like. But her hand passed through her. She wasn't real.  
  
Constance turned her head as she heard someone else approach, her mother turned as well and without warning bolted towards the unknown person. Constance watched, as the unknown person, a man, gathered her mother into his arms and kissed her fully.  
  
Constance studied the mans appearance critically, he was taller than most men she had come in contact with, he was dressed in dark pelts that were fitted to him snuggly, his skin was as pale as the snow covering the ground, his hair was as the dark color of obsidian and his eyes were an icy shade of blue. Out of everything though, his ears were the strangest thing, they were bigger than any she had ever seen and they came to a point, he's an elf, she thought absently. All though he was a stranger, his features seemed strangely familiar to her young eyes.  
  
When the two broke their embrace he looked down at her with an emotionless mask on his features, but his eyes were had the look of someone grieving. "Lilly, I love you and you know that, but we can't meet like this anymore. The elders are suspicious as to why I continue to return aboveground; every time I come here I only endanger you more." He spoke sadly into the winter air.  
  
"But Jair, there has to be something we can do. We can hide, aboveground, or underground, I'll go anywhere with you." Her mothers' voice had a bell sound to it, even when it was laced with the sorrow of a great loss.  
  
"I'm sorry Lilly, but I can't risk your life anymore." He replied in a low, harsh voice as he turned away from her, "I love you." He whispered as a great wind began to blow around him. As snow and frost-bitten leaves began to swirl around him in a great vortex of shimmering color her mother collapsed sobbing to the ground. When she looked up to her lovers' last position, he was gone.  
  
For several more moments Lillian sat, huddle into the fetal position, her cries filling the empty air. Then as the sobs began lessen her voice floated out to Constance's listening ears "But I'm having your baby," she paused and hiccupped on a repressed sob, "and Curtis asked me to marry him."  
  
Before Constance could react to her mothers startling confession the world began to spin again. The ground lurched as the colors around began to change from a spinning white and gray to flowing blues, green and whites. She closed her eyes and waited for it to stop; praying to whatever God would listen that she wouldn't get sick.  
  
As the world began to fall back into place she opened her eyes and drew in a deep breath, then a disturbing thought hit her. Her life was a lie. As if on cue, tears filled began to fill her dark eyes, she released s strangled sob and fell, without a care for her clothes or appearance to the water that filled the fountain.  
  
A thousand questions filled her mind at once, they were overwhelming and foreboding. Even if she made it through the labyrinth, she could never go back to that house, to live with a man that was nothing to her. Her life had just been turned upside down.  
  
After a several quiet moments she reached up and dried her tears on the back of her hand. Standing she faced the next statue and listened carefully as a bodiless voice once again filled her ears.  
  
"One truth has been revealed, two more to go." Allowing a small, almost menacing smile to grace her lips she reached for the next vial. 


	8. Chapter Eight

Title: Shunned  
  
Author: Raven-Mistress for the Incarnate  
  
Category: Labyrinth  
  
Rating: Pg13-R  
  
Summary: A child, not quite a girl, but still not a woman, is hated by her father and forgotten by the world. What happens when she receives a birthday gift from her aunt, the gift of a small, leather-bound black book, with the words 'Labyrinth of Logic' printed on its cover?  
  
Authors Note: I would appreciate reviews. ~Raven~  
  
Disclaimer- I own nothing.  
  
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Though her face showed confidence, her mind was reeling. She feared what this truth would be; anything more concerning her mother would surely do her in. Her fingers seemed to hesitate just before touching the small bottle, almost jerking back, as though it was emitting a great amount of heat.  
  
The vial contained a bright orange liquid that reminded her of the sunset. The vial was in every way the same as the last, from the glass to the tiny cork. Slowly she picked it up and read the lettering on the platter. The fine golden letter shone brightly against the silver, the word 'Future' barely legible due to the bright reflecting light.  
  
Pulling the cork from the vial, lifting it to her nose she soon found herself engulfed in the scent of Lilacs and an unfamiliar musk. Taking little time to think she again lowered the vial to her mouth and swallowed the contents.  
  
The ground lurched and the world spun around again. Then everything became off balance, top became bottom and bottom became top, her feet were on the ground, but they were in the air at the same time. Just when she felt like the world was going to collapse in on itself, it stopped.  
  
She was standing in finely detailed and beautifully ornate bedroom. It was huge in proportions, with a high, vaulted ceiling. Large arched windows stretched over the walls, bathing the room in a bright, natural light.  
  
Richly colored tapestries hung from the pale blue walls, there was a dressing table sitting close to the far right wall, a small padded stool with a silken blue slip cover placed before it. There were two large closets, with doors standing open, one revealed simple, yet elegant gowns and dresses; while the other was filled plain, yet elegant frock coats, smooth-looking breeches and waist coats.  
  
There was a large archway and a smaller carved door leading to more rooms. Through the archway a large sitting room could be seen, tall oil lamps stood between high, wing-backed chairs. There was a large, oriental styled rug, stitched in pale blues and cream colors stretched out over the floor beneath the chairs. A large mantel and fireplace sat at the front of the room and was winged by large shelves housing books with unrecognizable titles.  
  
She could only assume that the other, carved door lead to a bathing area of some kind, though she didn't have time to investigate. Her attention was drawn back to the sitting room; someone was hastily entering the room. She heard the voices before she saw the actual people, there were two, both familiar. One was light female voice while the other was a richly accented male.  
  
"Darling, I have news." The female voice was almost timid when she made her announcement.  
  
After several seconds of silence the man spoke, his voice slightly amused by the woman's disposition, "And do you wish to share?" a smile was evident in his voice.  
  
Constance was growing alarmed by the familiarity of the voices; quickly, she walked through the arch and was met with the sight of herself in a long, flowing gown, the satin material was colored a pale rose. Small flowers were stitched into the hem around the bell sleeves and around scooping neckline.  
  
She seemed different though, almost alien in her own eyes. Her hair seemed an even darker shade of black and it shinned silver in the light, her eyes were a lighter, almost icy color of blue and her ears seemed to come to a gentle point. She looked more like the man from the last vision, that realization shook her to the core.  
  
Then she turned her eyes to the man, she only needed to look at the untamed, burnished gold hair to know who her other self was speaking to. The Lamia King.  
  
Before she could pass judgment on the situation, her thoughts were brought to a complete halt when the next sentence that reached her ears. "I've just visited Uzziah." She heard herself say softly, as she moved through the room she caught the worried look that crossed the kings' face at the mention of that name, "Do not worry, there is nothing wrong with us." She finished quickly, her voice more playful and confidant than before.  
  
For a few moments Tristram stood still, as though trying to process the information, then with a slightly confused smile he whispered "Us." then he bolted for her, wrapping her up in his arms instantly and swinging her about.  
  
Joyful laughter could be heard from the embrace; then it happened, they kissed. They made it seem like it was something natural, like it was something they did every moment of every day. When they broke apart the smile on the Lamian kings face spoke of happiness and a kind heart, it all seemed strange yet right, and that scared her more than anything else.  
  
As he opened his mouth to talk, he became blurry, as did the rooms' and her other self. The world began spinning again, twisting and turning on itself. Pulling her to and fro, she tried to shield her eyes by closing them, but the light was too bright, it intensified more and more with each passing second. Bending colors within it, making them so bright they bleed into the white. Then everything was normal again.  
  
She pried her eye lids open and once she was sure of her surroundings she once again fell to water of the fountain, her energy seemed to lessen more and more every time she saw one of the so called 'truths'. Her breathing was labored and harsh, and all signs of color left her face as she remember what she had seen, that surely was not her future, it seemed so different than what she would envision.  
  
Taking 'cleansing breaths' as her Aunt Elizabeth would call them, she stood on shaky legs and faced the last statue, it was the same as the two before it. It held one last vial of liquid on a silver platter, the word 'Present' etched into it.  
  
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Tristram watched, wonder written clearly over his face, as she appeared in apartments that resembled his. Only the colors were slightly off and the woman's closet and dressing table seemed out of place, but otherwise they were exactly like his quarters. What could that place possibly have to do with her future?  
  
Then, he watched in utter fascination as he saw the other two people enter. It was wrong though, none of that should happen, this was not part of his plan, this was not supposed to happen. His mind was racing as he saw himself, acting normal, not placing the 'evil nightmare' mask over his features, look at the Halfling with worried eyes. She was not supposed to him like that!  
  
Four small words rung out from the crystal world, and they made his world fall down. "Nothing wrong with us..."  
  
Without warning the crystal fell from his finger tips and shattered on the floor.  
  
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Sorry for the delay in updates, I just started a new semester and my classes are killing me, but I will try as hard as I can to update regularly.  
  
~Raven~ 


	9. Chapter Nine

Title: Shunned  
  
Author: Raven-Mistress for the Incarnate  
  
Category: Labyrinth  
  
Rating: Pg13-R  
  
Summary: A child, not quite a girl, but still not a woman, is hated by her father and forgotten by the world. What happens when she receives a birthday gift from her aunt, the gift of a small, leather-bound black book, with the words 'Labyrinth of Logic' printed on its cover?  
  
Authors Note: I would appreciate reviews. ~Raven~  
  
Disclaimer- I own nothing.  
  
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Constance stood on shaky legs, facing the last imposing marble statue and pushing the memories left by the first two from her mind. The wind was deathly still as she inspected the fine silver platter; it was beautiful and skillfully crafted, just like the ones before. But the vial that it seated was not bright in color as its predecessors had been. It was pure and devoid of all color. It looked almost like water, but even with all her naiveties she knew that it was anything but.  
  
She reached a small, pale hand out and grasped the vial in what was almost a steady hand. She quickly brought hand back and pulled the cork stopper from its resting place and carelessly tossed it into the fountains pool.  
  
As she brought the small, glass container to her lips it barely registered in her mind that the liquid was odorless. Without pausing, she consumed the contents and waited for the inevitable motion sickness to occur. But after several moments, nothing happened. The grove remained quiet and still and she remained stationary.  
  
Shrugging delicately she replaced the vial and turned around, she happily gasped as her eyes were met with the sight of an opening to the outside world; one of the large trees was missing from it's place between the pillars, revealing and earthy brown path that cut it's way from the closed off court yard and through a thick, dark forest.  
  
She quickly through aside her inhibitions and ran through the pool, creating loud splashes and leaving many ripples in her wake. Her movements were quick as she ran to the opening, she wanted out so bad, her time was running low and she had to navigate through that dark forest and find her way to the castle. Her life depended on it.  
  
Despite all of her hopeful thoughts she stopped, this was all too easy; all of the other challenges had required to exert her mental strength and had been solved by using logic, this couldn't be the end. Gently, she reached her hand out to the opening; but she was met with resistance. It almost felt like there was a sheet of glass standing between her and her destination.  
  
Something in the back of her mind flared up and she sensed eyes on her. She quickly turned around, half-hoping, half-dreading that the Lamian King was with her. She didn't know how to react when her eyes fell on the forms of three identical fey males.  
  
They were all tall with burnished red hair and bright, yet in some mysterious way dull, green eyes. Their skin was as pale as ivory and their handsome features were still and lifeless. Each wore a thick, silver chained necklace that bore the Greek symbol for either past, present or future. She looked past them and saw that the fountains pedestal was empty, the statues were gone. Her gaze drifted back to the strangers before her and the realization slammed into her like a ton of bricks.  
  
Present stepped forward, and in a dark and almost ominous voice spoke, "You have learned many truths, all different in content but similar in that they are all related to you. They affect you deeply and will mold and shape your future." paused and looked at his comrades briefly; he received a nod from either before continuing his odd and foreboding speech, "To pass beyond this point in the game, you must realize the common truth."  
  
He looked at her pointedly, and she understood that it was time for her to either answer or forfeit. She cast her gaze down as her brow furrowed with concentration, "The common truth." she muttered as she tapped a thin digit against her temple, "But everything was so, so different. It was completely opposite of the norm." she thought aloud. 'Completely opposite' rang through the air for a short moment before her head snapped up and she locked her gaze with that of present, "Nothing is what it seems." She spoke evenly with all the confidence she could gather.  
  
After a moment of quiet she aloud her gaze to slide over to Future and was astonished to see his face brighten with a smile. She quickly looked at Present once more, only to have him nod and wave his arm broadly towards the path.  
  
Without a second thought she smiled at the living statues and quickly turned and fled down the path and into the dark forest.  
  
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The room was cloaked in a veil of darkness; three small votive-like candles were the only source of light. Shadows were cast upon the walls and furniture, giving the room beautiful and ornate room an almost sinister quality.  
  
Perched high on the windowsill, gracefully spinning a crystal that held a slight tint of blue was the kind. His brow was furrowed in intense concentration as he starred out at his beautiful and vast kingdom. Everything was so different from the times of old, everything was so much more civilized, there was a large gap in-between the lower class and upper class and all of the creatures in the Underground seemed to be more concerned with appearances and their own social and political gain to even give a thought about others. He despised that manner of thinking, there were so few left that he felt he could trust and so many that he knew he needed to keep under a closely guarded watch.  
  
These were the reasons why he remained shut off from the Underground and its inhabitants, he attended the many balls' and parties' that served as more of a political function than a source of entertainment. He would sit by and idly watch as others enjoyed themselves, he knew full well that most did not want to be in attendance, but it would be rude, even considered an insult and it would forever tarnish ones reputation if they did not attend. And everyone wants to maintain a good reputation.  
  
When the time came for the more influential guest to convene in a more private area he would go and only say as much as was needed, Jareth was the more social and talkative out of the twins anyway. They both considered most of those evenings were a waste of both of their energy.  
  
His thoughts were brought to an abrupt halt as someone began to rapidly beating upon his chambers' door. His head snapped to the direction of the offensive sound and he accusingly bit out "What do you want?"  
  
"Y, Your Majesty?" a young, male voice stuttered from the opposite side of the thick door, fear obviously showing in his voice.  
  
"What is it Westley?" The king sighed as he forced himself to speak kindly to his young fey page.  
  
From behind the door the dark haired fey heaved a sigh of relief; he had never seen his king in angered state, no one had. Some spoke of seeing him frustrated (usually with his twin), but he was almost always calm and passive. Regaining his composure the page asked "May I enter, Sire?"  
  
His reply was the simple opening of the large door. He took quiet, but measured steps into the room and closed the door behind him. He faced his king before announcing "The girl has entered the Forest of Nightmares. If she's anything like those before her, she'll surely go mad."  
  
"The problem is, she is nothing like the rest." the king muttered as he turned and faced his kingdom again.  
  
"What do you mean?" Westley asked, his gray eyes taking on a look of intrigue as he carefully watched his lord and master.  
  
"It's nothing for you to concern yourself with." Tristram spoke in a clipped tone as he faced his younger page once more and with a strong voice commanded him to return to the thrown room and send orders to the Captain of the Guard instructing him to place sentries at all castle entryways.  
  
Westley hastily exited to do his kings bidding, leaving Tristram alone to his thoughts once more. He looked out into the falling twilight and sighed "Why must you intrigue me so, young Halfling?"  
  
-To Be Continued-  
Thank you for patience, I've been so extremely busy lately that I've barely had time to sleep. I'm going to try and have many more chapters put out soon. I'm sorry for the delay and thank you to all who have taken the time to read and review.  
  
~Raven~ 


	10. Chapter Ten

Title: Shunned  
  
Author: Zenchi  
  
Category: Labyrinth  
  
Rating: Pg13-R  
  
Summary: A child, not quite a girl, but still not a woman, is hated by her father and forgotten by the world. What happens when she receives a birthday gift from her aunt, the gift of a small, leather-bound black book, with the words 'Labyrinth of Logic' printed on its cover?  
  
Authors Note: As you must have noticed, I've been having a bit of an identity crisis. While Raven is a beloved part of my persona but I feel that I have grown out of the name, thus we have Zenchi. Zenchi is a Japanese term for all knowing/omnipotence ;-), and I thought that it suited my self-assured attitude quite well. Again, I appreciate all reviews.  
  
~Zenchi ~  
  
Disclaimer- I own nothing.  
  
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The path twisted and turned through the dense foliage, little light found its way into the great thickness of trees and shrubbery, making the forest take on a hellish darkness. Though she knew she should be feeling frightened and uneasy, Constance felt safe, for the path she walked seemed to glow with a faint and almost pulsing light of its own. It was a comforting beacon in the nightmarish forest to which she traveled. Her bare- footed steps were quick and she took care not to waver from the comfort of the path. She knew not what lingered in the darkness or the shadows, she didn't want to know.  
  
As she quickly traversed the narrow, glowing path, something moved to her right and her body instinctively jerked to a halt. Deep in her subconscious some primal and fierce instincts warred with each other, caught between faking dead and running from the unknown creature.  
  
As she stood stationary at that place in the path, noises and movements began, slowly at first and then with increased fervor. A small jump here, a rustle there, but all too soon she was engulfed by movement, dark creatures with faintly glowing red eyes whirled around her. The creatures drastically ranging in size, from extremely small to the dangerously large, began to bounce and zip from the unknown darkness on one side of the path to the thick brush on the other; where they promptly disappeared. She quickly and violently thrashed and turned from side to side, hoping and trying to avoid being hit by the unknown beings as they propelled through the air at high and unyielding speeds.  
  
At what seemed to be an excruciatingly slow pace, the small creatures began to dissipate and as they did Constance vaguely remembered the nightmares she had that began that very same way. She shuddered as the memories of her childhood frights flooded her mind causing what little color she possessed to drain from her frail features, those nightmares of beasts' and unknown peril had kept her awake and terrified on many a dark night.  
  
As the last creature hoped across her path something like a flame of warning flared in the back of Constance's mind and as her terror began to rise so did the wind. She stood perfectly still and trained her ears on a disturbance deep in the forests' dark and unforgiving depths. It was like a low vibrating or hum, it was almost like the sound of a large trucks engine running in the distance, but that wouldn't be possible here. Whatever it was, was getting closer, and with every passing second it reminded her more of a low and predatory growl of an angered animal than the sound of an engine.  
  
With that thought she was stricken, before any rational thought could come to mind she became possessed by her self-preserving instincts and began running as fast as her bare feet would take her.  
  
She had been here before. All of these things seemed to be familiar, sickeningly so. She had ran from this creature many times before and only escaped it when the sun rose. It was a manticore, a large creature with the body of a red lion, the face, ears and blues eyes of a man and a powerful stinging, scorpion like tail. It had been something she had read about in a history of Indonesia when she had been a small girl. Tales of how the creatures' three rows of three would rip through a humans flesh in the same fashion that a knife would butter had rooted a deep fear in the girl, one that had survived childhood and adolescence.  
  
She was living in a nightmare. She shuddered at the thought, she had to escape. She pushed her limbs to the limit, forcing them to move at a pace that had been unknown to her until that day. A damp sheen of cold sweat formed over her skin and her breathing became labored with panic and exertion. Dark trees passed by her line of vision quickly and the wind became more violent with every panicked gasp she inhaled.  
  
She followed the glowing path religiously, never wandering from its safe light. She followed to a straighter stretch and with a small, forced smile she picked up her speed. She tried to keep herself moving like that, flowing with a speed and grace that was new and uncomfortable to her. Then she tripped.  
  
Her foot caught on small root or branch that littered the path and she went hurtling through the air and tumbled to the ground several feet away from her starting point. She skidded over branches and brush, pain flowing through her as the soft and delicate flesh on her limbs clashed with the bark of fallen tree branches.  
  
She rolled to a halt and lay motionless for several long moments, her hollow breathing and the manticores enraged growls were the only sounds to be heard. With a low groan she pushed herself up on her elbows and found herself in complete darkness, the path had disappeared. With a stifled cry she realized she was lost in this land of nightmares with no escape root to be found.  
  
Her thoughts became muddled as she quickly tried to review her options, only to realize she had none. She stood on shaking legs and as low and feral growl sounded almost directly behind her she began running again.  
  
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Tristram took brisk steps down the ivory corridor as he traveled to the thrown room; he felt unease seep into the pit of his stomach and as some unknown sense flared in the back of his mind his pace quickened. He paused for a split second before the large ivory and silver doors before slinging them open with an inhuman amount of force. He aloud his impassive mask to slip into place as he took composed and slow steps into the room, not bothering to acknowledge the large amount of strange creatures that had filtered into the room in his absence.  
  
Cadmus and Westley stood in the center of the room, directly before the thrown, waiting to report to their lord and master. Westley took in the fierce look that filled his kings' eyes and almost fell back a pace; he diverted his gaze to a point on the wall behind his lords' head and forced himself to stand still. Many of the other less brave, creatures that littered the room pressed themselves against the walls and away from his intimidating form, hoping not to call attention upon themselves.  
  
The magic that surrounded and flowed through Tristram was almost tangible, the atmosphere crackled and sparked with his powerful energy. It was at moments like these, that Cadmus was reminded exactly why the tall man before him was a king.  
  
Tristram came to halt in the center of the vast thrown room only a few paces in front of his advisor and page and without greeting or introduction demanded to know what had happened. Before either could answer he directed a meaningful gaze towards a door that occupied the wall to his far right.  
  
Nodding quickly in understanding, Westley rushed forward and opened the door. He bowed his head as Tristram fluidly waltzed past and hoped that the action of submission and respect would earn him extra favor and spare him any of his sovereigns' anger in this time of worry. He stood silent as Cadmus entered behind his king, knowing that his place as a page was well beneath that of the elderly Lamian advisor.  
  
He quickly entered the room and silently shut the door. He turned and took in the familiar surroundings that were affectionately dubbed 'the viewing room.' It was spacious and beautiful; decorated in dark, rich woods and flowing white fabric. It was almost unearthly. Dark mahogany furniture was placed strategically in spots on a pristine white marble floor. Heavy white drapes flowed from the ceiling to cover monstrous open bay windows, with every breeze they seemed to move with a life of their own and when they twisted away from the large windows one could see the beginnings of twilight filter into the room.  
  
Though all of these decorations were beautiful in their detail and eye pleasing features, they paled in comparison to the focal point of the room. It sat on a large silver and gold carved stand; it was large, round and as clear as fresh water. It was a crystal, massive in proportion and meant for viewing things that would be blurred and distorted by the smaller versions that Tristram controlled so easily. This crystal had been a gift from Jareth for their three-hundredth birthday, he possessed it's pale blue twin in a room quite similar to this in his Goblin Castle.  
  
"Your majesty, if you will allow me to explain." Westley began slowly as he watched his lord and master carefully as he approached the crystal and moved his hand in a circular motion in the air over the orbs surface, the interior of the crystal began to shift and change into a dark image, "She is caught in her own living nightmare. A manticore is pursuing her through the forest of nightmares; if it continues to chase her until these last two hours expire then you shall win the game. But, if she allows herself to become to deeply involved in the nightmare, she will drive herself to insanity." He finished his sentence slowly and watched as an alien emotion drifted across Tristrams features, only to be hastily swept away and replaced with a cold mask that so greatly resembled the villain to which he was supposed to be portraying in this play that Westley almost stepped back in shock. His normally passive and kind king was acting strange indeed.  
  
Tristram directed a cool glare at his young fey page and as he spoke restraint was apparent in his normally smooth and political tone, "It would be a pity to waste such a mind, she is the most complex and challenging creature I've come in contact with." he paused as he shifted his gaze back to the view orb, she struggling in the darkness there, "I believe she can challenge me further."  
  
Both lamia and fey watched in barely hidden shock as their king pulled a crystal from the air. Cadmus, realizing Tristrams intentions somewhat sooner than Westley, took a slight step forward and urgently tried to make his King see reason, "Are you sure of this sire? You are risking an incident similar to that that the newly crowned High King experienced, if those events should be repeated you will show weakness to the Seelie Court and surrounding kingdoms. Your family cannot bear any further scrutiny from the Seelie Court without the risk of being removed from your positions."  
  
"Do not question my decisions, Cadmus. The Seelie Court knows that it would be impossible for them to remove our family from our thrones and titles, we have the greatest connections to the Underground and it's power, for our family line sprung forth from the first Labyrinth its self." Tristrams' reply sounded cool and indifferent, he did not wait for a reply tough. He simply disappeared from the room.  
  
With a defeated sigh Cadmus turned to Westley, "Well, that could have gone better."  
  
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Constance stumbled in the darken wood, large roots and fallen limbs making her feel as though she were navigating an obstacle course in the dark. Gnarled, black branches reached out from the shadowed abyss and seemed to grab at her like desperate, arthritic hands. She struggled to keep herself steady and upright, as gusts of wind that blew in time with her frustration, shoved those large branches into her and her unseen path.  
  
She almost screamed as something reached from the darkness and caught hold of her shirt. She turned quickly, trying to disentangled herself, but only managing to tear a dead tree limb from her shirt; successfully ripping the thin cotton fabric that covered her lower back and right side. With a rather loud explicative she turn and started in a different direction, she could hear the manticore coming closer and she didn't have time to waster on trivial matter like her clothing.  
  
The manticores furious growling grew closer with every passing second, no matter how strong her efforts were to escape it, it still closed in. She tried to calm her breathing, praying to whatever higher being that was listening that she wouldn't panic into error.  
  
A strange feeling washed over her, a sixth sense alarming her to the presence of another being, and it was closer than she dared to think. She skidded to a stop, tearing the soft soles of her bare feet in the process. The wind grew deathly calm as she listen to all that was around her, hoping she could pin-point where this new creature was located before it could do something to harm her.  
  
Her fear growing at an alarming rate and she could only whimper when strong, gloved hands reached out from behind her and gripped her shoulders. She was forcibly spun around to face her assailant, and she quickly clamped her eyes shut and bowed her head, not wanting to meet her fate just yet.  
  
"Oh, do stop the dramatics and look at me." a strong, accented voice sliced through the air, causing her to slowly open her eyes.  
  
She was first met with a pair of shinning brown knee boots, then, as she slowly raised her gaze she saw tight breeches that were colored a strange light tan. A flowing poets shirt of the same color was tucked into the waist band of the tight breeches, a fitted leather vest the same color as the knee boots covered his chest and shoulders. Both shirt and vest were opened to reveal a good deal of his pale and lightly muscled chest, a strange golden pendant lay in stark contrast against his skin. His bright, burnished gold hair hung down on to his shoulders in wild, yet attractive disarray. Her eyes slowly crawled up his face, starting at his small, but still strong and defiant chin, thin, hard mouth, his beautiful and aquiline nose, strange liquid metal eyes and sweeping golden eye-brows. He truly was a beautiful creature.  
  
In the few seconds it took to reach his eyes, she had aloud a small, almost inaudible gasp to escape her throat and the wind had gone from deathly calm, to violently harsh and back. Tristram smiled, almost cruelly down at the young woman he held in his hands. Her eyes were no longer wide with fear or averted from their unknown destiny. They were gazing at him intently they held a light of wonder within their rich, dark violet depths that he had only seen in the eyes of children and infants. Those eyes, he noted sadly, were marked by something unseen. It did not impair their beauty in anyway, but it caused her to have an added air of mystery and danger.  
  
The manticores loud and feral growling brought them both crashing back to reality and reminded him of the current situation, the beast was upon them. "You will not die in this place." he whispered as he quickly wrapped an arm around her trim waist and willed them to the trees on the outer edge of the forest that was closest to her next challenge.  
  
Constance found herself in the arms of the handsome and frightening Lamian king, and for some unknown reason, she wasn't protesting. The now bare skin of her right side shivered beneath his gloved hand, delighted at the contact. A strange, warm feeling swept through her, it was like a mixture of joy and giddiness she had never experienced before. A gentle breeze swept over their forms as the scenery changed around them, it was light and warm, almost caressing.  
  
Tristram looked down at the girl in surprise as the breeze passed over them. Did she know how telling her untrained powers were? No, of course not, he berated himself. If she knew, she would have already reigned in her powers and hidden the emotions further beneath the surface.  
  
As she unconsciously wiggled in his grasp he remembered the position and swift released her small body, suddenly feeling uncomfortable. Quickly leveling her with an even gaze, despite his own turmoil, he said "This location should allow you to continue your quest."  
  
"But, shouldn't there have been another challenge in the forest?" Constance found herself blurting out, not even realizing she had even opened her mouth.  
  
"The challenge was to make it out alive." he answered briefly as he stared at her slight form with a hint of interest, "But if you would prefer to chance expulsion from the game, I would be willing to test your intellect."  
  
Looking at him carefully, hoping that her gaze wasn't as obvious as his, she debated whether or not to take this chance. If she didn't she could continue on and risk losing, but then, she wouldn't be here in his electrifying presence. "Alright then, what is your challenge?" her voice rang out clear and a smile spread upon his thin lips, she wondered if she had made the right decision.  
  
With a deadly feral smile he took a step back and spoke lightly in his beautifully accented voice, "It is a simple riddle. Answer correctly and you may proceed to the next challenge, but answer wrong and loose everything." with that said looked into her eyes and began to recite the riddle that would determine her future, "To the bold, I am a weapon. To the gallant, I am a pin. To the bridesmaid, I am a win. To the bride, I am a dream." with a heavy exhale he signaled for her to answer.  
  
She looked at him for several minutes, forcing her mind to think of what those things had in common. Why did he have to be so difficult? With a heavy sigh she squared her shoulders and looked into his metallic eyes, "Silver. A silver bullet is a weapon, a silver star is a metal for gallantry, a silver medal is given to a runner up which could be a bridesmaid, and silver wedding is a dream for all brides." she answered quickly, hoping not leave anything out.  
  
A slow grin spread across Tristrams features as he clapped his gloved hands, "Very good. You may continue your quest young halfling." his voice took on a condescending note as he whispered "Do not expect me to save you every time you face danger."  
  
Although there was a threat in those words Constance found herself thinking his voice was still lovely and she hated him for making her want to swoon every time she heard it. She hated him for making her want so many things.  
  
With a final bow and a smirk that said he knew what she was thinking, he disappeared with a twist of his cloak and a shower glitter and Constance was once again alone. 


	11. Chapter Eleven

Title: Shunned  
  
Author: Zenchi  
  
Category: Labyrinth  
  
Rating: Pg13-R  
  
Summary: A child, not quite a girl, but still not a woman, is hated by her father and forgotten by the world. What happens when she receives a birthday gift from her aunt, the gift of a small, leather-bound black book, with the words 'Labyrinth of Logic' printed on its cover?  
  
Authors Note: So, I've had a particularly hard time writing this chapter. I almost have writers block on this one, any suggestions are welcome. Again, I appreciate all reviews.  
  
~Zenchi ~  
  
Disclaimer- I own nothing.  
  
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Constance stood silent and still for several moments, trying to decipher the strange emotions that were coursing through her already frayed mind and tired body. Her thoughts were racing and her heart was pounding, she was quickly retracing every moment she had spent with the cruel yet kind king. An unfamiliar heat spread through her veins as she thought about how it had been to be wrapped in his protective embrace and as she remembered the innocent excitement she had experienced as his breath had gently brushed against her delicate earlobe.  
  
She was still reeling from the encounter, it was something she hadn't been expecting and it was rare for her to be caught off guard like that. He had shown her a part of him she hadn't known existed, even though that kind part was still tainted by his cruel mask. He was definitely not what he seemed, she would enjoy learning his different faces.  
  
She jumped as that thought drifted into her mind without her permission and mentally shook her self. She was allowing herself to develop feelings for this man, no this fey and that was a very dangerous thing to let happen.  
  
This must be part of the role he's supposed to play, she thought quickly, trying to explain why she was allowing herself to fall for his so-called charms. Yet trying to explain it that way only made her insides twist painfully, whatever he was playing at was working.  
  
"There's no room for love in this game." She muttered softly as she began walking once more, but even then she knew she was lying to herself.  
  
As she walked the trees began to thin out, allowing some amount of the evenings light to filter into her ever-changing surrounds. After several minutes of following the path through the forest the trees came to an abrupt stop, it seemed as though someone had drawn a line and the forest dared not to cross it. Beyond that line laid a never ending desert, bright white sand stretched out as far as the eye could see.  
  
She stood at the forests edge for several moments, not daring to cross in the wasteland just yet. The next challenge had to be close by, surely he didn't expect her to venture in to a desert that showed no path and gave her no clues as to which direction she was supposed to travel in. Her heart sped up at the thought of him and she almost became distracted. Almost.  
  
She quickly closed her eyes and forced herself to focus on the task at hand, she couldn't allow him to distract her and make her lose. She slipped back into her cool and indifferent mask and shoved all of her feelings into a box deep inside of her soul. She could analyze all of these new emotions later.  
  
Opening her eyes she turned and saw a free standing door that had definitely not been there before she closed them. It thick and led to nowhere, it was covered in strange carvings of drama masks and had no knob that could be used as a way of opening it.  
  
"Now how do you work?" she whispered as she stepped before it and studied the masks closer.  
  
"We ask you a question and you answer it, not the other way around! You silly, silly child." A bubbling voice sounded close to her right, it was a mask depicting comedy.  
  
"Oh you do, and what might this question be?" she asked the happy mask with a trace of a smile forming on red lips.  
  
"Don't ask her, she knows nothing of this horrid game." Another mask snapped sharply from her upper left.  
  
"Why must you always spoil her fun? Rude bugger." A mask with an emotionless face said from the high right.  
  
"Why must you always fight?!" Another sobbed.  
  
"Oh do stop your whining you blubbering idiot!" an angry voice shouted from among the many faces.  
  
"ENOUGH!" A commanding, matronly voice shouted from the very top of the door frame. The command had been issued from the largest mask of all; it was positioned at the top and in the center of the frame, above all the rest. This was the mask she needed to be talking to.  
  
"What question must I answer?" Constance stated over the din created by the several masks, her question directed at the large, almost mother-like mask.  
  
First the mask arched its wooden eyebrow and looked at her skeptically, after a tense moment in which the mask seemed to be judging her it allowed its features to relax and then it spoke out in its distinctive elderly female voice "What does man love more than life, fear more than death or mortal strife, what the poor have, the rich require, and what contented men desire, what the miser spends and the spendthrift saves, and all men carry to their graves?" Giving Constance a stern look she whispered "Be swift woman, your time is running short and he himself will be coming for you within the hour."  
  
With a deep breath Constance tried to focus herself, she had to win this. Didn't she? She had a life, but how much of a life would she have in this new and frightening place? No one loved her there, only looked after her and allowed her to live in their homes. But here, she may not even have that much.  
  
Oh this is pointless, she thought quickly returning her mind to the matter at hand. Heaving a great sigh she went with her first thought, half hoping it would be correct "Nothing."  
  
The largest mask nodded her wooden head as much as possible and the masked door opened, despite its lack of hinges. Constance's vision was flooded with bright, white light and she almost thought herself to be blind.  
  
Only allowing her eyes to adjust to the new brightness for a moment before wasting no more time and entering the brightly illuminated doorway, she set off to find the her unknown destination. She prayed she could do so quickly and without incident.  
  
The bright light filtered into the white corridor, it was but it wasn't, it surrounded her, it coursed around and through her. It was almost empowering, but it was almost frightening as well. She didn't pause to think of this though, she only continued her walk, she could feel the magic in this place more than in any other and it was unsettling that so much power could be untapped in a world like this. She wanted out.  
  
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Tristram sighed in relief as he watched the girl continue on the right path, he had yet to understand why he found himself so concerned with her welfare but he brushed it off as a simple lust. She was a beautiful little thing.  
  
But why had it felt so right to hold her in his arms? She had been so small and had fit the lines and curves of his body so correctly, it was almost as though she had been molded to fit him and only him.  
  
His train of thought was disturbed as Cadmus stalked into the room and cleared his aging throat, "His majesty, King of the Goblins, High King of the Underground, Jareth." He lazily articulated the sentence and then the older lamian man stepped aside and aloud the regal fey man to enter the room.  
  
Tristram stood as his brother approached his throne with a look of ill- concealed anger masking his beautiful features, with a sigh Tristram spoke "I see your time at the Seelie Court was not well spent."  
  
"They wish to have my transfer to the castle of Irendi postponed while they make further inquiries into my abilities to properly rule a kingdom." Jareth spoke in a heated rush, his words sharp and angry.  
  
"Which means your transfer of the Goblin throne shall also be put on hold." Tristram added after a moments thought, "Have you spoken with Prince Asher of this?" Tristram asked quickly as he thought of the future Goblin King, the young Prince Asher of the Elvin Kingdom.  
  
Asher had asked for the title of Goblin King, thinking it would ready him for his future kingship of his fathers' kingdom. He was the first born of Tristram and Jareths' elder sister Ravinders children, who had four in all.  
  
"No, I have been unable to speak with the young Asher, but I am sure that he has already been informed of this detestable set-back." Jareths upper- lip curled into a sneer as he spoke of having to continue wearing the title of Goblin King.  
  
The position of Goblin King had been used as a proving ground for future High Kings for centuries and while it was a deplorable station it was a step that had to be completely on the path to the ultimate seat of power.  
  
While Jareth had overcome the challenge of ruling the Goblins with an astounding amount of grace he was eager to rid himself of the filthy kingdom and take his rightful place on the High Throne of the underground. His coronation as the High King had been completed a mere forty-eight hours before the 'incident' with the mortal girl Sarah and there had been a great amount of controversy since his defeat which was one of many factors as to why he had yet to transfer his new castle and court.  
  
"Have they set a particular date at which they plan to finish these proceedings?" Tristram asked in tone that obviously showed he was suppressing anger.  
  
"It shall end within two weeks." He sighed dramatically and with a wave of his hand a small, clear crystal appeared "I just hope they finish this without dragging the girl into it."  
  
"You still harbor feelings for this mortal." It wasn't a question, it was a statement spoken out of an understanding.  
  
"I do not know what I harbor for the girl." Jareth murmured as he gazed into the moving image in the crystal, "One moment I hate her for her triumph, the next I feel some indistinguishable emotion."he trailed off as he threw the crystal over his shoulder and into oblivion.  
  
Turning to Tristram, Jareth inclined his head slightly and then asked "Your contestant?"  
  
"She almost didn't escape the Nightmare Forest, I aided her when I discovered that her nightmare was a manticore." Pausing only give a delicate sigh he continued in a much stronger voice "She is in the corridor of light that leads to the heart of my capitol city, soon she shall be upon the castle."  
  
"What is your plan of action?" His elder brother looked upon him with concern for a moment before slipping on a calm mask.  
  
"I do not know, she expects a villain, but she also sees me for myself. She shall have to make the choice." Tristram answered briefly, his eyes taking on an iridescent shade of blue over the gray for a single moment before going back to their shining metallic gray.  
  
"Good luck, brother." Jareth stated with more of a political tone than he had meant too, "I do hope that this goes well for your sake and for our families." With that final statement left hanging in the air Jareth bowed and then blinked out of existence in a shower of glitter.  
  
Tristram sat in silence for many moments before whispering to no one and to everyone at once "As do I."  
  
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Thanks for all of your patience, this has been an exceedingly difficult chapter to write. I've tried to eliminate all errors and things of the like. Please Review!  
  
Zenchi 


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